[Copyright.]

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7226, 12 October 1901, Page 7

[Copyright.]

The next adventure, though almost c dangerous in one way, was of a much mci pleaagnsfc jmtvve. I must <k> something.

was getting low spirited Bad very miser; We. I'd go to town. Letting lihem kns> at the farm, I started on© morning at i o'clock, with a pair of blaakcts, ov€rcos and a d:zen stkts, making a nice littL «wag. I kept on tie ranges the whole wa^ to Governor's Bay Road, where I arrived a sunset. By dark I had reached the bottor. of Ookan&o Sbrest, apd- when I got wel into the town I 'put. my pack under m; arm as a parcel, ajid swinging my stick •with head erect, I am sure I looked any thing but a swagger. Through most of iixmain street* I went until I got to ih North Beit. Here I lead to # rest ; I ccuict ecaToely jrat my feet to the ground. After a good rest I went to ifoo housr of some friends -to get w&at news I could and asked tlhem to isend a message to others. I was received -as I expected, ant heard a good many tilings that me-T-r-mostly yarns which I -found to be vi terly false. I forget them all now, 01 would narrate some. Others I remembsr, wihioh show me plainly that -the police mus. iurce tad a lively time of it, lam sorry for some of them,, for I am sure I had their good wishes as well .as oAkers. Bat >fcr the remainder, such as *hat iiewiy-enxolled Irish Yahoo, who, becewse be " was a sarvant of her Jilajesty *be Queen -would shop; me 3ike a.«ra-w," % felt somewhat pleased, yes! 3SJr Irish Yaihoo, if you had met tie ci?fiw upojieaßai terms, yx>u would probably lia-vs had someiiiang beside police rules ape X¥gola4anßs jjnocked into that .oijherwise empty braap^hoac of yours • 'for although J am not pf a vindictive .character, <aoy coldblooded savag>e iikß that w»uld J>e a3l the befctepSop a iklieiastyuotioa i» tr>ae xaaaiiJK3S.

All the nest day I rested, and at might preptrod to reimm. I didn't like staying with anyone who might Jjy any accident gel into trouble Hamgit b», and io hang about I knew 1 would -excite suspicion ; "hence my decision. I feit too tired for any larks, and ftlsa a little uncomfortable. Had I been carrying noifeiag I «lWuld not ha-ye -minded jnuch, but my pack looked too much like e*swag, and I could not very weJl leave it anywhere. However, a lark I had, and' a jolly g!ood ope, top.. I w|ts wnikijig. down Manchester Street, ibad passed the Catholic Home, and just as I got to tbe first •earlier I was ran into by a nicely dressed girl. "Hallo, Jacki" she exclaimed, "what are you doing up 'here?" "Oh, I doa't fattowj but I don' t_ think I'm tie Jack you want!"

■ "pood gracious no, no more you are. Who «ra you?" "Ah; that's telling! Who are you!" *■ A?i! t&at would be telling, too. But don't you "flunk you raighit hs a little more careful as you go round -corners, and not knock ladies over 'Ike tha*?"

"Ob, I know I was to Wame, you weren't q£ course. You weren't travelling 'eyes omt' vereyou?" " Indeed, I wasn't travelling 'eyes out ' as you call it, but is there any reason why ladies sihmiMHi; walk fast?'

"Oh, none at all; I like to see a. girl stop oat." / "That's all right -then, but you might tell me who you «ase ! I don't like talking to strangers who are afraid to tell their names'."

" You shouldn't talk to strangers at all!" "Oh, very well, good 1 night,* and she Bioved off.

" Hold on, you didn't let me finish ; I vas going to add, "with one exception.'" There is an exception to every rule ; besides, I want to talk to you. I don't often come to town, and I want a little news. Can't you take me somewhere where we can sit down and rest, for » I "have a long walk beior& me to-night.

"I like your cheek, mister, but wiier6 have you to go?" "To— 's Bay!"

"What are you doing out there?" " Oh ! nothing much. Loafing about !"

"Who do you live with? Do you live •t home"

"J. live by myself, and it is my present borne. Will you come and keep house

for me?*

"No thanks! I don't know you well enough. But you might "*ell me who you are?"

"I couldn't, really" (seriously). "I ■wouldn't mind if I knew you could tlio? roughly "bs trusted." ' " I can be trusted. I never tell tales, aid keep my own counsel." "Can jou really, though?" "Yes, positively. There are rery few that I know that I would care to take into Biy confidence ; and as I have no particular friend I make a confidant of no ' one Now, who are you ?"

"I'll tell, you before I go. You might run away if I told' you now.? She looked at me very closely for nearly a minute, and then said, "Take off your hat."'

"NoFI shan't!' What should I take my hat off for?" I had my pack under one arm, amd the walking-stick in the hand of the other, so that when she moved forward quickly and took my hat off, I couldn't; stop !her. "By Jove, it is, I believe !" $he paid. " It is what?" " You are Roberts !" " Well ! supposing I was?" "I could almost hug you, if I thought you really were.' " Hug me first, and perhaps I'll tell you afterwards." " Oh ! I daresay ; fout you might tell

me?" . , • " You might go and give information?' " No fear, I'd be more likely to hide you

■omewhere." . . "Would you really! Well, if youwotild you're a bit of a ' brick !' " "Are you?" " You come and sit down* on one of those ■eats in Laiimer Square and then I'll tell

you." "All right, come along!" Presently she asked, "What is that you have under your arm?" „ * "Some things I bought last «»#»*. "Have you to carry that over the hills? "Yee! Why?" " You'll never get back to-night !' " I can finish, to-morrow if I don't." On arriving at the seat, she commenced. " Well ! Are you?" " Am I wiat?" "Are you Roberts?" "Yes. I'm Roberts!"

"I hardly believe it now. Let me feel your lands. They're not very hard, and aMioug'h you look as if you were a country bumpkin, you don't talk like o-ne. Can't you prove it somehow?" r Prove what?"

" Prove that you are Roberts." "How Gould I possibly do that?"

"Haven't you gat anything to show?"

"I reckon showing Mmseif is the best proof a man can give ©1 his identity." "Yee, but don't, you see I don't know you except irom your photograph. That beard altera you. I believe you are," she continued! after » pause; then getting bold

n her belief aad putting Jonathan Roberts Wn as public property, she once more ook off my hat, pushed my ihaJT up from ;ny forehead, pulled down the neck of pry ,verooaat. Tben putting my hat on again, he said, "Tell me truly, and I'll believe ou."

"I have already told you." Her gay, mischievous mamner left hex. ,ȣ>king at me quite seriously, she asked, W<hy are you in town V " I came in just for a spree. I was getng :n the dumps, so came in by way of ange."

" Poor boy ! How ikvng are you going to ay in New Zealand?"

•'lt might be a week; it might be a Mbii. Why?"

'Because I should like to know von were ay"

Do you nn«an to say," I asked, " that v care one iota whether I am h?re .or vav'J"

•' Ye?. T do, and co docs every girl at .aith's. We ail p : +y you, and would help o<ii if we could."

This was getting too much for me. She as so serious, that I didn't doubt her .-lord, and such •dis-nteiiasted kindness upset ny equilibrium altogether. I couldn't say mythiing.

Turncng towards me Whe continued, "Are -wi safe 'here? Oan you get back all

"Oh dear, yes. No one knows me in his rig-out, and by this time to-morrow aigivt I shall be in my own little hut."

" What hut, and where?'' " A liut I buSfc in the bush in Purau." " You are not in Governor's Bay then ?" '" Mo ; but I tave to pass ttoce to get 0D18."

Can I get

"Do you want', anything? Ny thong?"

"No thanks, dtear." The latter word ■ama out quite naturally. I felt it, bub she iiidn't seem to notice it.

" Can't som© of us come out to see you?" >he tfhen asked.

"No, I'm airaid not. You'di never find he way, and I can't in justice to those who who are keeping me in provisicins tell upon whose place I am. Thank you all the came, though."

"Do you think you will get away all right?".

"Oh, yes, I don't doubt for a moment. But why should you take so much interest in me?"

"I can't help' it When I think that only a little wails ago you were a gentleman, could go where you like, and d'& what you like, and now, although you have done WTong, to have such a heavy sentence and bo be huDited by all the police ; it is enough to arouse anyone's sympathy."

" You're a good girl. By-the-bye, you haven't told me "who you are?" "Nellie X !"•

'■ Well, SfeHve, XJiere is only one thing I don't like a»bput you. Had you turned out differently it would have been just what I do like, but I know your mature — I don't like it — that is, your running about the streets at night."

" Oh, you needn't be afraid of me. I know how to taike care of myself."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes ! Quite. I know all the young gentleni&ni who speak t-QUS'girls only want to make a plaything of us, but they have their match here. The first deceived me, so I trust none now."

"But why do you hav-e anything to do with t'ftem at all?"

"To pass away the time. I've mo nice friends to visit, and don't know what else to do. IV* been to these after meetings, and evangelistic meetings, and the Salvation Army, and goodness knows what not. And although they alwayjs say they <are glafd to see you, and- hope you are saved, _and so on, as soon as you waJk out of the door they don't care what becomes of you, and don'-t seem to have any real love for you ; so how, whenever I want a little amusement I get the nicest looking girl I can find, and we go down town. Some gentlemen (':) always come up and speak as soon as they get a chance, and ask to see us tome. If they appear nice we say ' Yes ' ; if not, they get ' no' sfcraagib/t. If fchjos^ who go bonne with us beaiave properly aiMf. as?ijc us to meet them another night, we premise ; but if they are fast a»d rude, then we ako promise to roost them again, but never do. It is an aimless 6ort of life, but I feel _as if myself is the only true friend I have, and drown all other thoughts. Besides," some day I may pick up someone tihat I shall get to like, and tfien it will be all right." " That is just what ii will not be. You'll like him co much, that ike will be able to xto what he likes witli you, and in the «nd give you the slip." "Trust me- I know how to take care of myself too well for that. No. 1 wen* upon that tack, but fortunately, although he told me ihe loved -me, ajud would marry me if he had a larger salary, and all sorte of things, I found out that he had just said the same thing to another girl. She was too clever for iiim, though, and somehow got him to write to her, and, like a donkey, he made the same promises upon paper as ihe had dons verbally, when she had him. They are married now, but she simply had a hoid over 'Mm, or else he mightn't have married her, although she's worth two of him. Perhaps you think grapes are sour. They are not, for I did like him, but I don't think 'he would have done for me. I want someone that oa/n boss me. If I 'wore the coaV I shouldn't think him a husband at all." "What do you mean by "wore ihe

coat?"

"Well, if I ruled the roost.' "That is just as bad. I suppose you mean if you were master."

" Yes !"

"Well, how many .young fellows have you allowed to see you 'home without fin-l-ing one to iove?" " Oh ! I don't know, a good many. The more I see the more particular I get. I have liked some, but they manage to go a little too far and get sent to the rightabout. ' Others that seem to like me I don't care much for, and they go too. "You seem hard to please, but do you know what I think of girls that run about town at nights?"

"}To! What?" "Well! I don't think they are up to 'much, and should be very chary of goin* too far with them."

" You needn't have such a set upon shopgirls and those who run about the street. They are no worse than the Upper Ten. The Upper Ten don't run a.bout so much, certainly, but from what I know I don't •think they are a bit better than any others." "Go on, keep it up." "Well, I hate to hear the working-girl run down just because she has no champion, and no one to slip her out of the way if anything goes wrong. They do get v.n honest iiving and pay their way. The Upper Ten do little or nothing, dress well and go through the Court, or if they don'f. go through the Court they don't pay their debts. We hea.r a good many things aboutsome of them. The baker gets £1 at a time for his bread, just to keep him quiet, and others the same way. I could tell yon of one ov two -that do that sort of thing, and the daughters go to aill the grand balls and parties, and the boys ape the masher. Now, look here, tell me. How many bank clerks are there that are not in debt? Truly, now?" "Well, since you want the truth, I must admit that the biggest half are what you'd call broke."

"And when you were in the bank you were in the biggest half, weren't you?"

"Well, that's coming it too straight I'm not going to .tell 'you any more."

" No, I don't want you to, for I've seen a good many bank clerks and some of them have told me a good many of tsheir goingson. And we poor girls and the boys in foundries and those places, who don't get any thing like the same pay, can always keep out of debt. Where does all their money go." " I really couldh'fc tell you. I can't tell you where 'half of mine went; yet it did g°-" " Never mind about your money now ; I

want to ask you something. Are bank clerks worked very hard?" "No. Why?" " I was always led to suppose that they were."

"Well, considering they don't commence until ihatf-past nine, and always, or nearly always, get finisihed by four, except on Monday nights, when they have an hour or two more, I don't see how you can call that hard, work."

" All the fellows tell me they are awfully hard-worked, but I always see them walking about tie streets wheat I happen to go out."

"Well, look there, next time you hear them telling you that, you tell them that I told you that on the average one dozen good smart fellows could d'» all the work that two diczeoi bank clerks do."

" I will really. Don't you wish you were in the bank again?"

" Yes ; I've wished that a good many times. I'd go on a different tack if I was."

'" I suppose you'd' be a mo-del, eh?"

".NV>, but I wouldn't be a fool.. And I was one when I was in the bank. I hfid as good a ohanoe as any one, but thought too much of myself, and the consequence was I came down, with a rush."

" i3o it seem? ; but never mind, you may get another show when you get away. What do you intend to d/o?"

" Roll up my shirt-sleeves and work like a slave for a year or two, and then start in some particular line that shows itself to be profitable."

" Yes, j-ou will, with a hook." "All right ; have it your own way."

(To be continued.)